REVISITING: The Eight People You Meet at the Airport
They'll all be too close. And insist on breathing. WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED BY PETER MOORE
THIS WEEKED I’ll visit four airports. So will 1.73 million other travelers. Normally, I like people. But not these people, who are all-too-likely to invade in my personal slipstream.
The tech monster. Note: he’s using all the outlets to charge stuff he’s not allowed to use on the plane.
Those identical salesmen. They’re all wearing white shirts unbuttoned at the collar, blue blazers, neatly pressed blue jeans, and they hope to engage you in conversation on a long list of topics. Fortunately, they’re all going to Cleveland, and with any luck you’re not.
The sex bomb. She might just detonate in flight. Boom!
The human smorgasbord. Later, when you’re sleeping, he’ll need to use the toilet.
The bin crammer. Black holes have an infinite capacity to absorb matter. So too the luggage compartment over row twelve.
The cheer team. They won’t calm down until menopause, so you’re in for a super-enthusiastic flight.
The nervous guy. The question you ask yourself eventually: Is he nervous for a good reason?
The guy who’ll wind up sitting next to you, with a Yankees cap on and a face mask riding just under his chin. At the very end of a recent flight, this exact guy told me he was still deciding about the vaccine. Waiting for a sign from God, I suppose. At least the Yankees lost in the wild card game.
I'll be in four airports next month. I hope I don't run into any of the people you described! I enjoyed reading your substack piece.
YES! You covered them well. Just need to add over perfumed to the sex bomb!